


Bullets For Love

by kelex



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:05:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelex/pseuds/kelex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chad keeps looking in the wrong places to find someone who loves him, and Jared happens to pop up at the right time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bullets For Love

**Author's Note:**

> Noir-ish RPS AU. Appearances by Chad Michael Murray, Jared Padalecki, Kristen Bell, Jensen Ackles, Kristin Kreuk, and Tom Welling. Gay Pulp prompt: _Born To Be Gay: Terry Cabot has always been the whipping boy, the scapegoat, the butt of every joke - but he only wants to be loved! He searches for a mutually fulfilling relationship with another man, but instead finds nothing but violence at the hands of depraved creatures who exploit his every weakness. If only he could find the perfect man, Terry knows in his heart he was born to be gay._

If Chad was a drinking man—and really, he was—he'd start today. 

Right now, this minute, at seven-forty-five in the morning, because he was starting to wonder if he could face rolling out of the bed without the help of a fortifying, yet altogether numbing, shot of whatever booze was left from the previous night. 

He reached out to the bedside table and winced, pulling his arm back in instantly and curling around the pain that shot down all the way to his fingers. 

At least there wasn't any blood like last time, he reflected idly to himself.

The persistent ringing of his phone was what had woke him up at this godforsaken hour of the morning, and he leveraged himself out of bed, biting his lip and successfully muffling the moan of pain as he reached out with his left hand, fumbling the telephone open and holding it up to his ear. "It's too early," he snarled.

"Good, you're not dead." The female voice on the other end of the phone sounded relieved. "I was starting to think I was gonna have to send the meat wagon over instead of coming myself. You awake enough for visitors?"

Chad sighed. "If I say no, will it make a damn bit of difference?" Krissy meant well, he knew she did, but he sincerely did not feel up to this today.

"Nope," she said, forcing cheerfulness that was grating on Chad's nerves already. "Not a whit. Do I gotta bring stitching stuff?"

Chad rolled his shoulders experimentally. "No, I'm good. This guy's not a freak like last time, there's no blood and no cuts."

"Thank Christ. I swear to God, Chad, if you don't dump that fuck, then I'm gonna—"

"What, bite off his kneecaps?" He had to smile at that—Krissy was barely five feet and looked at least ten years younger than her age of twenty six. 

"Oh, fuck you too," she groused. "Bites, scratches, aches?"

"All of the above," Chad admitted with a sigh. "But definitely with the aches."

"Got it," Krissy muttered. "Heating pad, rubbing ointment, painkillers." A sigh. "You ever think about… not?"

"Every night, little girl," he murmured. "Hurry if you're gonna expect me to be sober by the time you get here."

"Chad…"

"Clock's ticking, Krissy," he said again, hanging up on her.

-=-=-

It was less than a half hour later when Krissy was knocking at the door to Chad's building. He rolled his eyes, cause he knew she had a key—he'd given it to her—but she always did this just to get him to get up and get to the door. It wasn't going to work today, and Chad stayed in bed, sitting up just enough to sip from the whiskey bottle.

A few more minutes of insistent knocking passed, and then Chad heard voices in the lobby: Krissy's exuberant voice then the hung-over mumble of one of Chad's neighbors. A few more moments passed, and there was the turn-click of another key in the door lock, and Krissy pushed the apartment door open. "Chad?"

"In here, Krissy," he called out from the bedroom, pushing himself up to mostly sitting.

"Sorry I'm late, but I bought you food on the way," she called out, picking her way through the empty cigarette packs and butts that had been carelessly thrown down on Chad's carpet. One butt had managed to burn a hole in the carpet where it had fallen before smoldering out, and she just shook her head. "One of these days, you're gonna burn yourself to a crisp with those things."

"I think if you make me eat, I'm going to throw up," Chad said honestly, groaning at the thought of having to put food in his stomach. Right now he was doing good to hold down his liquor around the ball of pain. 

Krissy sighed. "Lemme see," she said with a soft wince, putting the take-out bag down outside the bedroom door and heading inside.

Chad had already pushed the blankets out of the way, and he wasn't at all surprised to hear Krissy's gasp of surprise. The marks that he could see, in the mirror and with his own eyes, were vivid enough that he didn't bother looking further. He just kept his head tilted enough to hide the hand-shaped bruise around his neck. 

"Jesus, Chad." Krissy's hands shook as she opened up the first aid kit, wetting one of the gauze pads inside with sterile saline. "Are you trying to kill yourself? Cause I swear there's easier ways." Taking his hand, she mopped at one of the darkest bruises mottling his skin, cleaning it up as best she could. 

"Pays the rent," he said with a shrug. He didn't want to roll onto his stomach for any reason, the least being afraid of what Krissy would find. She'd seen a lot, he realized, and in some moments, when she wasn't annoying the hell out of him, Chad actually felt bad for the worry and the stress he put her through. 

"The rent can't be that much," she scoffed. "Besides, I've told you a hundred times, you're welcome to come and stay with me."

"And I've told you every single one of those times that I don't want a roommate, I don't think you and Jensen want a roommate, and I seriously don't think that you *or* Jensen want to know exactly what I get up to."

Krissy sighed, and held up the make-shift first aid kit. "Kinda think I already do, but you know, I could be exaggerating."

Chad just sighed, reaching out and taking another drink from the bottle. 

-=-=-

His resolve to not get involved with anyone lasted all of a week and a half, which was a personal record for him, and one that he was quite proud of. Eventually Chad hoped to work himself up to a month, which would give him more than enough time to recover from one before he went to another.

But here he was, back at the Cabot Club, dressed in the best suit he owned. It was more expensive than he could afford, but thanks to several of the men he'd seen over the last month, he'd had occasion to shop on one of their credit cards. And now here he was, sitting at the bar sipping the same gin and tonic he'd been working on since he'd arrived an hour ago. 

He was surveying the men that came in, filing each face away in his memory, whether or not he'd seen them before, who they were friends with, and if they were his type. 

One guy in particular kept drawing Chad's attention. Hidden mostly in shadows, he seemed to stand half a foot taller than anyone else in the bar as he leaned against the far wall. His eyes were obscured by his bangs, which were brown and shaggy, at least, the part of it that Chad could see. He had dimples, if the half smile peeking out of the darkness was any clue, and his teeth flashed surprisingly white in the shadows.

Every time Chad looked over at the mysterious stranger, he was still staring with that same half-smile, and it was making Chad itch. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. "Laugh!" 

Laugh was James Lafferty, Cabot Club's bartender. Barely even old enough to drink the booze he was sloshing out, he had been tending the mahogany bar for the last eighteen months. "Yeah?"

"Burton hire a new bouncer?" he asked, hooking his thumb over his shoulder to point at the strange guy in the shadows.

Laugh shook his head. "Not that I know of. Hil's been looking for a new bouncer, sure, but she ain't hired anyone that I know about. Least not since I started my shift today." He followed Chad's thumb. "Don't know who that is; haven't seen him around before. But if he's giving you a problem, we can thump his ass on out."

"No, let it go," Chad said, taking a last sip from his glass before handing it back to James. "I'll handle it."

James took the glass, dunking it in the sink of hot soapy water under the bar and washing it as he watched Chad straighten his tie. "Be careful; he's a big guy."

"No worries," he answered flippantly, gliding off the stool and heading purposefully over towards the tall man in the corner. He didn't move, and Chad stopped short of running into him. "Who in the hell are you, and why are you watching me?" he demanded, folding his arms over his chest. 

A smirk was his answer. "Jay."

The smirk infuriated Chad. "Just Jay?"

"Just Jay," he drawled softly. "Just like in the movies."

"So where's Silent Bob?"

Another smirk from Jay. "C'mon, Lunchbox."

"Oh HELL no," Chad gritted out. "I don't know who you are, JAY," he said, infusing the name with as much of a sneer as he could. "But you can back right the hell off and leave me alone."

Jay's teeth flashed in a genuine grin. "Anyone ever tell you that you're cute when you're indignant?" Chad was sputtering angrily when Jay's cell rang, and Jay held up one hand that was almost as huge as Chad's head. "Hold that spit." 

Chad's face flushed red at the hand in his face, fuming silently while Jay was on the phone. 

"Hello?" Jay grinned, then laughed. "Yeah, right here. I'm watching the steam blow out of his ears right now. Yeah, no problem. Bye." Chad snatched at the phone, but Jared just smirked, holding it over Chad's head and out of his reach. "Now, now. You're just going to run up your blood pressure."

"Who were you talking to!?" he exploded angrily. "Why are you following me? What do you want?"

"I was talking to a friend of mine, because a friend asked me to, to take you home alone," Jay said, counting on his fingers to make sure he got every one of Chad's questions answered.

Chad's foot stomped loudly on the floor to get Jay's attention. "You are *so* not my type," he sneered. Which, as far as it went, was true. Chad generally didn't go home with anyone who could out-snarl him, but outside of that? Well, what this guy didn't know wouldn't hurt Chad.

"Mmm, and you're lucky, because I could break you in half," Jay pointed out, one hand wrapping around Chad's upper arm and squeezing tightly to make his point.

Chad's breath left in a huff at the heat in Jay's hand, and he gritted his teeth at the squeeze to his arm. Just bordering on painful, it was obvious that Jay wasn't even using all his strength. "Take your hand off me," Chad hissed softly. 

Jay released him without another word, and looked over Chad's shoulder at the couple approaching them. "Can I help you?"

"I certainly hope so." The woman was much smaller than the man she was with, but he stood a half-step behind her, making it obvious just who was in charge. Her long black hair was intricately piled on her head and curled around her shoulders, which just accented the porcelain-doll quality of her features. "I've been looking for you tonight, Chad."

"I bet you have." Chad tried not to shrink back against the wall; he'd been busting his ass over the last couple months to avoid this confrontation again, because the last time he'd had to deal with Kristin Kreuk, he'd ended up in the emergency room with a concussion from the gorilla-like fists of her top man, and Krissy was still furious that he wouldn't tell her about that.

Jared straightened his shoulders and back at that, coming to stand just a little in front of Chad and towering a few inches over the man with her. "And who are you again?" Jay asked, not quite rudely. 

"My apologies," she said smoothly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear before holding her delicate hand out. "My name is Kristin, and this is Thomas. We're… interested in Chad."

"Uh huh," Jay said, drawling it out softly. "I jus' bet you are. Sorry; take your business elsewhere." 

Thomas started to step forward, but Kristin stopped him with a hand to his chest. "Wait, Thomas," she said silkily, eyes moving calculatingly over Jay. She didn't want her prize man damaged, and it certainly looked as though Jay's fists could do a lot of damage, even if it was just cosmetic. "There's no reason that—I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." 

"Because I didn't give it," Jay said simply. "I know who you are, and I know what you do and what you want. It's not gonna happen; go somewhere else and quit sniffing around my boy, and if you don't, then it's not gonna be pretty." His voice was still quiet and drawling, but a note of darkness and danger had deepened it just a little. 

Chad had been satisfied to stay quiet for the moment and let Jay handle this, because the honest truth was, he didn't want to join Kreuk's stable. Her escort service was especially known for letting their customers go all out on their boys, and as much as Chad hated what he did, he was at least able to call a few shots for himself. 

But when Jay referred to him as "my boy," he drew himself up, and started to protest. Before he could say a word, Jay turned his head, and the warning stare was dark as it pierced him. It clearly said _shut the fuck up right now,_ and Chad did exactly that, snapping his jaw shut and grinding his teeth silently.

Kristin's eyes flashed from Jay to Chad, and nodded once. "Are you sure about that?" she asked, moving her hand and letting Thomas step in front of her, face to face with Jay.

Jay smirked, a silver switchblade jumping into his fingers almost as Thomas stepped forward and he twirled it once, making sure it caught the light as the tip caressed Thomas' cheek, leaving a fine line of tiny blood droplets behind. "Positive."

"That's enough, Thomas," she said sharply, taking a white silk handkerchief out of her purse and handing it to him. "Take care of your face." She looked at Jay, a quick expression of seething hatred passing over her features, twisting them briefly into an ugly mask before they settled back into their normal delicate beauty. She turned to look at Chad. "If you ever change your mind, you'll know where to find me. It's not too hard." 

"Well, okay then!" Jay said with false cheerfulness, the knife disappearing almost as soon as it had appeared. "We don't want to keep you from your other business. Ta-ta." He slung an arm casually around Chad's shoulders and deliberately turned his back on the two of them. 

Thomas growled, and Kristin held him back. "No, Thomas. Not now. Too many people. Don't worry, you'll get your chance." 

-=-=-

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" Chad hissed under his breath, though not fighting as Jay hustled him away. The flash of knife had both frightened and excited him, and he was rethinking his position of Jay not being his type.

"Keeping your ass in one piece, just like I was told to," Jay explained, alternately pushing and pulling Chad through the crowd in the Cabot club and out onto the streets. "Come on, my car's in the valet lot," he said, pulling the number out of his pocket and handing it to the valet.

"We could just walk, I don't—"

Jay cut him off with a glare. "You really do want to get your ass killed, don't you?" he growled. "You're not walking home—and yes, I know where you live." He dug out his cell and paged through some of the numbers too quickly for Chad to see, and dialed one as he held it to his ear. "Yeah—good thing you called me. Something happened, you could say that." His car came around, and he gestured towards the passenger side with his shoulder as he got in the driver's side. "Kreuk's got her eye on him—yeah, no, I'm not surprised either. We're on the way back now. Okay. Okay. Bye." He leaned over and opened the door for Chad. "Get in."

Chad had debated not getting into the car, but as he looked back at the canopied club entrance, he saw Thomas standing there glowering at him, and quickly he climbed into the seat beside Jay. "Krissy called you, didn't she?"

Jay gave Chad a grin. "Got it in one. God, she's a persistent little thing, isn't she?"

Chad groaned, banging his head against the headrest as Jay pulled out of the valet circle. "You have no idea."

"Oh, you want to bet?" Jay easily navigated the streets that led to Chad's apartment building, the black Corvette moving slickly through the shadows.

Chad just rolled his eyes, and instead transferred his attention to the car. Classic and in good condition, you had to have money to roll in a car like this, and Chad had just a moment's envy as he ran his fingers lightly over the dashboard. Definitely his type after all, with more money than they had sense and willing to spend it on trivial things like cars and fucks. "No, if you're her friend too, then you know exactly how annoying she can be."

Jay nodded. "Yeah, but she means well, so I can forgive a lot. Besides, she wouldn't nag if she didn't care, and she obviously cares about you." 

"Yeah, she does." Another sigh, and Chad let his hand fall off the dash entirely. "Sometimes I feel bad about all the shit I put her through."

"You should," Jay said frankly, weaving the car in and out of traffic. "The fact that she called me is a testament to how little you listen to her and how much she's afraid for your dumb ass." 

"So who are you that she had to call you as a last desperate measure?" Chad asked. Whatever it was, it had to be something that paid well and didn't draw a lot of attention. …not that there were really that many jobs out there that fit those two criteria.

Jay's grin was dark and nothing at all like the lighthearted smile he'd given Chad earlier. "You can call me a troubleshooter."

Whatever other question Chad might've had, he snapped his jaw shut on it, because he got the feeling it'd be better if he didn't pursue that line of questioning. "Okay then."

"Good answer." With that, Jay's smile softened into the dimple-showing one that he'd been wearing back in the club, and Chad was able to relax. "Give me your cell," he added, once they were parked in front of Chad's building.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously, half-expecting him to want to bug it.

"Because I'm gonna put my number in," he explained patiently, as if dealing with a half-wit. "If there's any kind of trouble, you call me, and I'll take care of it." The wolfish grin flashed again, and was gone as soon as it appeared. "Otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow night back at the club."

He didn't say anything else as he handed Jay his phone, and when he took it back, the first thing he did was look for the new number. _J. Padalecki_ , the name read, which explained the Jay part. The number was local to LA and flashed right under the name, and Chad nodded as he put it back in his pocket. "See you around, J. Padalecki."

Jay just waved at Chad, waiting and watching him go into the building before putting on a pair of black driving gloves and dark glasses, taking off in a squeal of tires and burnt rubber smoke.

Chad didn't waste any time getting inside, locking the lobby door after him as well as the door to his apartment. Once he was inside, Chad fumbled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Krissy as he was stripping off his shirt and jacket. He cursed when he got her answering machine. 

"Kristen fucking Bell, I know you're there, and you better pick up right damn now before I think better of coming over there to beat the shi—"

_Beep._ "Hey, Chad!"

"Hehehe. Don't you try that innocent act with me, Kristen Anne," Chad scolded. "What in the hell were you thinking sending that Padalecki character after me!? In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have any virtue left to protect!"

"No, but you do have a life and skin and health and all that good shit, and I knew that Jay wouldn't let anything happen to you," she countered brightly. "Besides, he's a good guy and he hates seeing people get hurt."

"…you do know what he does for a living, yes?" Chad asked, disbelieving.

"Well, yeah. Kinda how I met him and how I got him to do me a favor by looking out for you," she explained.

"You—okay, Krissy? Promise you'll never, ever explain that to me any further. Cause I'm already sorry I asked." He paused to think a second. "You watch out for yourself, right?"

"Deal," she said seriously. "And yes, I do. Don't worry, okay? I'm all good." Her voice lightened, and Chad could just imagine her grinning as she changed the subject. "Did you have a good night?"

He snorted as he threw his tie down and collapsed onto the bed. "Define good."

"One in which you escaped with your skin intact and no harm came to you," she said.

"Then yes, I had a very good night, thanks to Jay."

" _Jay!?_ " She cracked up. "Oh my God, he's got you calling him JAY!" Her laughter was so loud it almost made the phone crack.

"What the hell are you babbling about? That's his name, right?"

Krissy got her laughs down to just snickers. "Hell no. His name is Jared, but he thinks Jay is so much more cool and smooth."

Chad rolled his eyes. "What's wrong with Jared? I kind of like it."

"Oh, it figures you would, Chad Michael," she snorted. "Well, I'm glad he's got _somebody_ willing to call him Jay."

"That last name's a mouthful, though," he confessed. "I can see why he'd go with Jay or even JayPad or something like that," he continued. 

"Stick with Jay," Krissy advised with a smile. "Much less likely to get you slapped."

"Right. Sticking with Jay." Chad filed that away in his memory, and sighed. "How long is he going to be following me around?"

"Two days short of forever, or when you get a steady guy who's not gonna kill you, cause I'm tired of patching you up and seeing you hurt all the time. Also? You really need to go to somewhere other than the Cabot club, because the people you're getting there? Are obviously not your type."

"Krissy?" Chad dragged a hand over his face.

"Yeah?"

"Butt the fuck out." He hung up on her and tossed the phone onto the bed, sighing. A shower sounded really good right about now, and so did a full night's sleep that didn't involve painkillers or heating pads.

-=-=-

The shower had felt so good that he'd stayed in for half an hour. The hot water beat down on his muscles, relaxing him and making him feel like a new man as he leaned against the chipped tile wall. He hadn't even cared that he was dripping on the carpet or the sheets, just collapsed naked in the bed, groaning softly as he got comfortable under the ceiling fan's cooling breeze. It'd been so long since he'd gone to bed normally that he was asleep in an instant, reveling in the cool sheets as he drifted off.

-=-=-

He woke in a panic, flailing in the pitch black darkness against the weight pressing him down. His throat closed up tight when a hand wrapped around it, and all he could see in the sliver of moonlight from the window was the glint from a silencer. 

Chad was fighting to breathe as he forced his eyes open all the way, gasping and bucking to try and throw his assailant off, but whomever it was had the advantage of weight and obvious height because he couldn't budge them an inch. His first thought was Jay, but when the gunman leaned forward to press the gun against Chad's jaw, he froze. 

Thomas was looming over him in the darkness, the hand not holding the gun wrapped around Chad's throat as he whispered. "Miss Kreuk wants you alive, but she never said I couldn't give you a test drive first." He kept the gun at Chad's face, but slowly let go of his throat. "Go ahead and scream; I bet they're used to hearing you around here," Thomas goaded. "I want you to scream; makes it better for me when you do." 

Chad was still trying to breathe through a throat that wouldn't open up even after Thomas' hand moved. He didn't scream, but he did strike out with his balled-up fists, hoping to score some kind of blow that would give him the chance to move. 

Thomas just laughed, catching both of Chad's wrists in one huge hand and pinning them to the mattress. "You should feel honored, Chad," he hissed. "After all the other people you've had in your ass, you should be glad someone still wants you." He moved one of his knees, shoving it between Chad's legs and pushing them apart on the mattress.

Chad was frozen in place, straining to scream and fighting to keep his legs together as Thomas forced them apart. During one of his struggles, his elbow brushed the cell phone he'd discarded earlier, but before he could even have a chance to dial it, Thomas' weight was suddenly gone. 

Chad didn't question it, just rolled until he hit the floor, wincing when his hip thudded against the carpet. He lunged for the lamp, knocking the shade off in his haste to get it turned on. 

Jay had his elbow around Thomas' throat, dragging him off the bed as the light came on. "Stay down," Jay ordered, and his voice held none of the good mood it had had earlier in the night. He was still wearing the dark glasses and the black gloves, and Chad suddenly got an inkling as to why Jay was so good at what he did. 

Thomas was trying to break free, but Jay's elbow was pushing down on his trachea, making it impossible to breathe if he struggled too much. The pressure didn't let up until Jay had Thomas totally off the bed, and Chad grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around himself with a quick shudder as he curled up in the corner, unable to stop watching. 

Thomas shoved away from Jay, breaking the stranglehold once he was on his feet. Almost instantly, the silver switchblade materialized again, quicker than it had in the club. Thomas looked at his empty hands almost angrily, then at the gun that had fallen to the floor when Chad had yanked the sheet. He made a dive for the gun, but Jay was damned fast for a man his size. 

The knife's blade drove deep into Thomas' shoulder, cleanly severing the tendons of the rotator cuff. Thomas screamed, the arm hanging limp and useless at his side with no muscles able to move it. Jay pulled the knife out quickly, wiping the blade with a swift flick on Thomas' shirt.

Furious and in pain, Thomas moved like a bull towards Jay, who was rocking lightly from heel to toe, knife held at the ready. He let Thomas bulldoze into him, slamming both of them against the wall just so he could wrap his arms back around Thomas' neck, wrenching him around and forcing him down onto his knees. 

Thomas drove his head back, connecting with Jay's stomach and winning his freedom for an instant when Jay was winded. Thomas moved for the gun again, grabbing it awkwardly with the fingertips of his left hand and pulling it towards him. He fumbled it into his hand just as Jay came over to him, and the whisper-snick of the bullet flying through the silencer sounded like thunder in the small room. 

Jay fell back, thudding into the wall as blood rolled down his arm, but he never lost grip of the knife. While Thomas was trying to fumble the gun into a more secure grip for a better-aimed second shot, Jay used his forearm to knock it out of his reach entirely. The knife blade flashed across Thomas' throat like a scalpel, and Jay climbed back to his feet. "C'mon. Get up, you're going to have to help me," he ordered, looking at Chad as he cleaned the blade before putting it back in his jacket pocket.

Chad bolted to his feet at the order, trying hard not to look at the man dying on his floor and instead looking at Jay. "What do you need?"

"Your back, mostly," he said, taking the blanket one-handed off the bed and throwing it over Thomas. "Roll him over onto that, and help me drag him over to the window; it's a straight shot down to the alley past the fire escape, and he'll be somebody else's problem."

Chad did exactly as he was told, glad of the hardwood flooring in the bedroom as he pushed and got Thomas rolled onto the blanket and out of the growing pool of blood. "He's—"

"Yeah. Cut through both the jugulars," Jay said shortly. "Look, we don't have time for an anatomy lesson here."

"Got it," Chad said, gulping short breaths through his nose as he got Thomas completely onto the blanket. "Okay."

"Good." Jay took one corner of the blanket and Chad took the other, sliding the body across the floor until they got to the window. Jay looked critically at Chad, and then himself. "Okay, you're gonna have to lift and shove, and then get immediately into the shower and clean everything you've got off." 

Chad nodded, and used the blanket to guide Thomas' body up onto the windowsill. It took both Jay and Chad pushing to get him out, but he bounced off the fire escape once, and hit the alleyway below with a meaty thud. Slightly queasy and half-slick with blood, Chad eased down onto the floor beside the window.

"You okay?" Jay asked, eyeing the huge puddle of blood on the floor.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Chad answered, pushing up from the floor and bolting to the bathroom. 

-=-=-

After three rounds of heaving and a forty minute scrub, Chad emerged from the bathroom, pale and damp but able to breathe again. He heard voices in the bedroom and his heart clenched until he heard Krissy's familiar laugh, and he let his shoulders sag softly. "Jesus Christ," he murmured to himself, coming out into the bedroom and coughing. 

The acrid stench of pure bleach hung thickly in the air, overpowering the burnt-penny odor of blood. The puddle on the floor was gone, and so was the sheet and blanket. Jay was sitting on a chair from the dining room table that'd been dragged into the bedroom, and Krissy was standing beside him, taping down a bandage over his shoulder. "Chad!"

Before he could say a word, Krissy was launching herself at him and he hugged her tightly, shaking his head and holding on. "Hey," is all he could get out. "When did you get here?"

"About twenty minutes ago," she said into his shoulder. "Are you okay? Jared said there was a problem, and I came running." 

Chad nodded, looking over at Jay, who was determinedly examining the bandage on his arm. "Yeah, there was, but we got it taken care of." He hugged her again. "What're you doing here?" he asked, not registering that she'd already answered the question before he asked it. 

"I cleaned up a little bit and got Jared patched up while you were in the shower," she explained. "How about you? You okay?" She peered at his neck, running her fingers over the red streaks from his scrubbing. "Come by my place tomorrow."

"Negative," Jay said, glaring at her. "You come by here. Nobody's leaving this place for the next week or so; everybody from the club saw me and Chad leave together, so we're gonna hole up here and give our alibi—which they'll call you to confirm—and let this drop."

Krissy just nodded. "I'll call you before I come over just to make sure it's okay. As for the alibi, I was here from about an hour ago on, just the three of us hanging out, having drinks and playing poker." 

Jay nodded. "And you've got the poker set?" 

"Yeah, and I'm leaving my car here overnight and picking it up in the morning because I was too drunk to drive it home," she added. 

"Good girl." He shook the bottles she'd given him, one antibiotic and one painkiller. "You got the bag for the incinerator?" 

"Yep." She picked up the garbage bag that had Jay's bloody clothes in it. "I'm dropping it off on my way out—Chad, when does it fire up?"

Chad shook his head when he realized they'd addressed a question to him. "Uh. Oh, midnight, I think." 

Jay looked at his watch and nodded, satisfied. "That's half an hour. Good. It'll be at least that long before anyone realizes he's back there." He gave Chad a sympathetic look. "Go on, get some sleep. Looks like you could use it."

"You both could," Krissy said disapprovingly, packing up her medical supplies back into the little black bag. "Jared, watch out for your shoulder. Take the antibiotics if you don't take anything else, at least for a few days until we make sure it's not gonna get infected. If you wanna suffer, that's up to you." She looked at Chad. "Be good," was her farewell, and she disappeared out the front door. 

Jay pulled himself up to his feet and followed her, making sure she got out the hallway okay, and then locked the door behind her. "We're gonna have to get you a new lock for the door, because I picked this sucker in about a second." He secured the chain over the door, and then looked at Chad, standing in the doorway of the bedroom. "Looks like we're gonna be roomies for awhile."

-=-=-

The bedroom floor was cleaner than Chad had ever seen it. The fan was going and the windows were open, moving out the smell of bleach and letting fresh air in to ventilate. Jay was sitting at the kitchen table, dragging his knife blade over the whetstone as he watched the doorway. One ear had a small headphone in it, and he was listening halfheartedly to the police band chatter while he watched Chad remake the bed.

Chad was moving on autopilot for the most part. A lit cigarette was hanging from the corner of his mouth as he made up the bed, pulling and spreading and tucking and fluffing by habit as he paused to flick ash into the ashtray by the bed. Once the bed was made, he ground the butt out and looked around helplessly, as though he were lost in his own apartment. 

"Siddown," Jay snapped, looking up and catching the aimless pacing. "Bring your smokes and sit down," he said, a little more nicely.

Chad did exactly as he was told, sitting down and putting his pack of cigarettes in the middle of the table. He pulled one out, lit it, and offered it to Jay who declined with a shake of his head. Chad put it in his mouth instead, and took a deep drag. "How bad did he get you?"

Jay shrugged. "Not bad; he just winged me. More blood than anything else, and it's sore like a sonofabitch. I don't dare take anything until I know they've found him, though." He reached for the water glass Krissy had left him, and took a long drink. 

"Thank you," Chad said sincerely. "I don't… I was just about to call and see if you could come, and you were there."

"I never left," Jay answered. "I was parked across the street in my Suburban. I didn't see Thomas until he was skulking around in the back, and I had to pick the front door lock and then your apartment door, or I'd have been in sooner," he said with a shrug, pushing off the thanks with a little ripple of his arms. 

"Even so, it was perfect timing." He took another drag from the cigarette. "You seem awfully comfortable doing this," he said, encompassing the whole situation with a wave of his hand.

"It's not my first time," Jay said with a wolfish grin. "After awhile, it becomes habit. The hard part is getting everyone else to do what you say."

Chad just nodded, and flicked ash off with a trembling hand. "Yeah, I can see where that might be a problem. I mean, not everyone is calm in a crisis."

"Tell me about it; you wouldn't believe the number of times I've had to slap people to get their attention," Jay said with a little laugh. "And let me tell you, it feels kinda good to do it."

"I bet it—" Chad shushed when Jay held up his hand. "What?"

"Sirens," he said shortly, touching the earbud in his ear. 

_Subject in alleyway behind Sunrise Gates, 5-5-2-9 Alamance Road, reports a dead body, throat cut ear to ear, fitting the description of Welling, Thomas, wanted on multiple outstanding warrants. Prior arrests record being sent to your vehicle, over._

_10-4, Dispatch. Adam-16 taking the call, oh-two-forty, out._

"Oh, that's good," Jay said, mostly to himself. "Outstanding and priors, they won't be looking too hard."

"For Thomas?"

Jay nodded. "Yeah. They'll canvas the building, shake us all down, get our alibis, make sure there's nothing hugely glaring in them, and mark it scum-on-scum and shove it to the bottom of the list. I've seen them do it before, especially with a guy like Welling who's got a prior sheet."

Chad nodded. "Okay, good." He stubbed out the second butt, and lit another, drawing it in deeply. "I can't wait for this to be over."

"Call Krissy, and let her know they found him. Careful when you call, cause Jen's due back sometime today, and if he's early that could blow it all."

Chad shook his head. "Jensen's flight doesn't get in til eight, she told me… shit. Yesterday. Maybe this morning, I don't remember. But she was gonna leave about seven or so to go pick him up and bring him home so she could get in a shower before she went to work."

Jay laughed softly. "Hate to tell you, but Krissy doesn't work a day job. Not since she lost her license, anyway. She's gonna go pick her boyfriend up and bang him into next week is what she's gonna do."

Chad blinked. "What? When the hell did she lose her license?" His hand was frozen in mid-air, holding the phone as he peered at Jay.

Jay waved his hand. "Call. Then I'll explain."

-=-=-

Jay's explanation had to wait for the police. Just as Jay had predicted, the police had sent out extra uniforms and detectives to canvas the whole building. Chad had answered the door half-naked and with the clean sheet wrapped around his waist, which caused the two cops questioning him to roll their eyes and mutter "queen" to each other. 

One of the cops had actually paled a little bit when Jay came to the door, sliding his arms around Chad's waist and pulling him back, letting the sheet slip almost too much as he kissed Chad's neck. That got notebooks snapped closed in a hurry, barely even jotting down their names in the haste to get the hell out. 

Krissy called about forty minutes later, because the cops had pounded on her door after finding her car in the parking lot of Chad's building. She'd given the same story that Jay and Chad had, and had even gotten a grudging "smart girl" when she'd detailed how she'd left her car in the lot after drinking too much during the poker game.

Jay gave a satisfied nod as Chad relayed the information, and only then did he open the bottle of painkillers that Krissy had left for him, and popped two of them. "We just might make it through this one," Jay said with a grimace as he swallowed the pills down with water.

Chad nodded. "Yeah, we're gonna. Thank you. Again. I wouldn't have had any idea what to do."

Jay just waved it off impatiently. "Like I said, I'm a troubleshooter. It's what I do." He nodded towards the chair with his chin. "Park it, you're makin' me itchy."

"Itchy?" 

"As in, sit down or I'll tie you to it," Jay answered, rubbing the heel of his hand over his eye.

Chad sat down at the threat, not quite willing to press and see if Jay would follow it through or not, because he was pretty convinced he actually would. "Sorry."

"No problem," was the terse answer. "I get it, you're restless, you're nervous, and you're giving off about a billion gigawatts of energy right now, but just… sit. Stay. At least until this kicks in," he said, rattling the pill bottle. "Then I don't care how much you pace."

Just to keep his hands busy, Chad picked up his Zippo and started flicking the cap on and off, turning the wheel and sparking a flame. After about three times, Jay reached out, jerked the lighter out of Chad's hands, and shoved it in his pocket. 

"I need that," Chad said calmly, holding out the pack of cigarettes.

In answer, Jay threw him a book of matches.

"Oh, this is gonna be a fun week," Chad muttered under his breath. But even as Jay glared at him for the muttering, Chad couldn't help remembering the little shiver that had slid under his skin at the hot press of Jay's lips to his shoulder.

-=-=-

"So why do you do it?"

Chad looked up from the fridge, surprised at the question. He'd just laid out sandwiches for lunch, because that was about the only thing he had in the fridge: lunch meat and a loaf of bread. A grocery delivery was on the way from Safeway, and on the way to the airport, Krissy had stopped by to pick up the car and drop off a tuna casserole that just needed an hour in the oven and that would be dinner. He hadn't expected Jay's question, and it threw him for a loop as he put the mayonnaise and mustard on the table. "Why do I do what?"

"Why do you let people like Welling hurt you?" he clarified. 

Chad shrugged as he sat down at the table. "I don't know, really. Why do you do what you do?"

"I asked you first," Jay said with a little smile as he made his sandwich. 

Chad pushed the half-made sandwich away and picked up the cigarettes instead, tapping one out and using the matches to light it. "Um… I don't always set out for it, you know? I've just…" He sighed. "Been looking for the right guy and keep finding the wrong ones."

A wry smile quirked the corners of Jay's lips. "Logic would dictate you look in a different place."

Chad just shrugged again. "I don't know. Cabot's where I've always gone."

"Yeah, and you got a reputation," he murmured softly. "That's why Kreuk and Welling were looking for you. They'd heard what you do and thought you'd fit." 

Chad gave a slow nod. "Which makes sense," he said after a long moment. "No decent guy would talk to me and I kept getting the dregs of humanity. Self-repeating cycle," he finished bitterly. "Welling was right."

Jay out-and-out frowned at that. "What was he right about?"

"That with everything—everyone—I've done, I should be glad that anybody still wants me." He shoved away from the table and went back to the fridge, taking out the only other thing still in there and downing several shots of the cold whiskey in a single gulp.

Watching impassively and still nibbling on his sandwich, Jay swallowed before talking again. "I'd say Welling had his head up his ass, but hey—maybe that's just me. I wouldn't give that douche a single shred of power over me, especially if I didn't have a lot to give up in the first place."

Chad just slammed the bottle down and turned to glare at Jay. "I guess we're all not as perfect as you, _Jared,_ " he sneered.

Jay's jaw ticked, but all he said was, "Sit down and finish eating." He shoved back from the table. "I'm gonna take a piss."

Chad jumped when the bathroom door slammed shut.

-=-=-

They didn’t speak again until after dinner, when Chad was smoking yet another cigarette, sitting out on the fire escape with his feet dangling over the edge. 

"You shouldn't be out there," Jay warned, leaning out the window on his good arm. "Cops could still be out here, and if they see you, they might get some ideas about where that body might've come from."

Chad just shrugged, pointing up to the other people sitting out on their fire escapes, smoking and chatting, waving back to one of the working girls that rented the corner apartment two floors above him. "M'not the only one, and if they haven't seen me, I know they've seen everyone else, cause we're all out here all hours."

Jay sighed, twisting and slithering his tall frame out the little window, sliding to sit beside Chad and once again declining the cigarette. The view was hideous; the alleyway, the dirty buildings to any side of it, and no real skyline to speak of. But it was something other than the same four walls, and Jay supposed that was why so many of the people in the building hung out here. 

"So how did you meet Krissy?" Chad asked, flicking the ash off the tip of his cigarette and watching it fall like snowflakes.

Jay laughed. "She patched a buddy of mine up at the ER one night. They went out for awhile, and when she lost her license, he called me up and we took her on." A grin. "Been stuck with her ever since. She's not exactly my personal doctor, but she's close enough. Whenever there's a scrape, we call her, and she's pretty good about keeping her mouth shut. Jen's one of our boys, and they're happy together, so God bless." He leaned against the scaffolding of the escape, and looked at Chad. "How'd you meet her?"

That actually made Chad laugh. "We grew up together. Till we were about ten, eleven years old. Then her family moved, and we totally lost track of each other for nearly ten years, and then when she showed back up in LA, just twenty one and going out to the clubs one night, we ran into each other at this random bar. Literally ran into because she's roughly the size of a fifth grader, and I almost plowed into her carrying drinks back to my date. We've been pretty much inseparable ever since."

"You guys ever hook up?" Jay asked curiously.

Chad nearly broke something laughing at the thought. "Oh Jesus Christ, no. I'd have strangled her."

Jay snickered. "I almost did."

"You--?" His eyes widened. "You and Krissy?"

"She's not half-bad in the sack, and sometimes Jensen doesn't mind sharing," is all he'd say.

Chad held up a hand, groaning. "I'm sorry I asked."

Jay's smile flashed, bright and deep-dimpled. "Whenever she's involved, I've learned not to ask, period. Cause chances are I don't wanna know."

Chad just sighed. "If I didn't love her so damn much, I'd kill her."

Jay finally held his hand out for a cigarette. "And I'll help you bury the body."

-=-=-

Chad found himself cleaning at one-thirty in the morning. He couldn't sleep, Jay was awake, the police scanner in his pocket squawking into the headphones which meant he was no good for conversation, and Chad was not in the least sleepy. He didn't usually crash for hours yet, and there was nothing else for him to do. So he cleaned.

He started small, sorting the confused piles in the corner of the kitchen into glass, paper, and plastic, folding the newspapers and putting them in a green cardboard box, while glass bottles went into a red box and plastic bottles went into a garbage can liner. There had to be a month's worth of newspapers, and Chad couldn't quite figure out how he'd accumulated that many when he didn't even read the damn thing in the first place. 

He ended up with two boxes of newspaper, a box of glassware, and two garbage liners full of plastics, and he washed his hands in the sink before drying them and loading the supper dishes into the dishwasher. 

The groceries had come right after dinner, and they'd been put away. The fridge was full, the cabinets were no longer bare, and Chad was starting to go a little bit crazy because this wasn't the way he was used to living.

"Got an extra pillow?" Jay stretched as Chad walked past him for about the fifteenth time.

"Uh, yeah, I think." Chad scratched his head in thought. 

"Okay, set me up on the couch, cause I'm beat and I'm gonna get some sleep." Jay pulled the headphone out of his ear. "So far, there's nothing else on Welling, so I think we're okay. A few more days inside, and I'll be out of your hair." He winced as he moved, pulling his shoulder. "Okay, that hurt. How long do you usually stay with your guys?"

"About a week, I guess?" Chad said with a shrug. "Four, five days." 

"Good enough." He stretched again, wincing again. "Got a shower I can use?"

"Yeah, through the bedroom. You know where it's at." Chad went to the linen closet, pressing up against the wall to let Jay past him, and he sucked in a deep breath at the full body contact. Jay didn't seem to act or react, just sliding by and closing the bedroom door behind him.

Chad quickly grabbed pillows, blankets, and a sheet, yanking the couch out into a futon and making it up with hospital corners. 

"Is there going to be a mint on my pillow?"

Chad nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't even heard Jay come up behind him. "Jesus Christ, you're going to give me a heart attack. I'm gonna put a bell around your damn neck, I swear."

Jay laughed at that, lighting his entire face up with it. "It's a habit, sorry. I just came out to ask if you mind if I use your shampoo and stuff."

"Knock yourself out, it's just no-name shit from the grocery store," he answered, taking a deep breath and getting his heart quieted again. 

"Okay, thanks." Jay disappeared back into the bedroom, and a few moments later, Chad heard the shower come on. He waited until steam started to rise out of the stall and seep around the cracks of the bathroom door, and then brought in a clean towel. Setting it on the side of the sink, Chad fled back to the bedroom. 

By the time Jay came out of the shower, Chad was sound asleep. 

-=-=-

"Dammit, Jay, I told you not to get it wet!"

"OW! Christ, woman, you're a butcher!"

Bickering voices woke Chad hours later, and he rolled over to look at the clock. He'd slept for almost twelve hours, which was kind of surprising because he rarely slept more than five or six. Joints popped as he got out of bed and went to the bathroom, and then stepped into the middle of World War Three.

Krissy was standing with her back to the bedroom door, hands on her hips and scowling darkly at Jay, who was sitting up on the side of the futon, scowling back at her and looking at the wound on his shoulder.

"Morning, sunshine," Jay chirped, grinning at Chad, and Krissy turned to throw a black look at him over her shoulder. 

"YOU." 

"Huh?" Chad dragged his fingers through his hair, trying to wake himself up. "What the hell are you babbling about, Kris?"

"YOU! You let him get that wet! And you didn't change it! Do you realize just how many bacteria are growing in that bandage now!?" She pointed a finger at him as she scowled.

"What? Me? Uh, excuse me, I just woke the hell up, start over." Chad was trying to make sense of Krissy's babbling and he really, really wanted a cup of coffee. 

"I came over to change the dressing on Jay's shoulder," she said slowly, enunciating every word with crystal clarity. "And when I got here, the bandage was wet from where he took a shower last night, meaning neither one of you two MENSA grads ever thought to CHANGE THE FUCKING THING!" she shouted.

"You didn't leave anything!" Chad yelled back in self-defense. Now that she mentioned it, he was feeling rather guilty about that. 

"Yeah, she did," Jay admitted sheepishly. "I, uh, just forgot to tell you."

"Forgot my ass," she sneered, poking Jay's shoulder again. "I should let your damn arm rot off."

Jay winced. "Take it easy, please, dammit." 

Krissy sighed, peeling the tape off and pulling the bandage carefully off the shoulder wound. Jay hissed, and Krissy winced. "Sorry," she whispered, tossing the used bandage in the trash. "It stuck to the sides." She poked and prodded a little at it, wiping off a bit of clear discharge with a gauze pad. "It looks okay for now. The Steri-Strips should hold it together, and I'm gonna tape a four-by-four over it just to make sure that your shirt doesn't chafe the strips off before they're ready to come off."

Jay nodded. "I promise if I take any more showers, I'll be careful not to get this wet, okay?"

"Okay." Krissy dug through her bag, pulling out a tube of antibiotic ointment and carefully daubing that on before putting the strips on it, holding it together. "There we go. You'll live, Jare."

"That reminds me." He glared at her angrily. "You spilled the beans."

She just smirked. "Yep. C'mon, you're not a Jay." Krissy gently patted his arm. "Sorry."

Jay just grumbled. "I swear, I'm gonna kill you one of these days." 

"No you're not." Peeling off the purple latex gloves, she balled them up inside each other and tossed them into the trashcan. "Chad, if he does anything stupid, you've got my full permission to smack him."

Chad choked. "Right."

"Be good, guys. Jen and I will come over tomorrow night, I'll bring the poker set and we'll play for real."

Jay shook his head. "No. We start doing things out of the ordinary like that, and that's just gonna bring a lot of suspicion down when they finally get around to talking to Kreuk and she tells them about Chad," he explained. "You shouldn't come back for a few days; Chad told me you don't come over when he's got company, so you need to go, and stay gone."

Krissy looked unhappy, but nodded. It meant she couldn't even call, because phone records were easy enough for the cops to pull. "Okay. I'll see you guys in a few days. Don't kill each other. Jay, if that gets worse, call me. Or head out like you're leaving and I'll meet you."

"I will." Jay nodded. "Now go." Krissy gathered her stuff up quickly, sliding out the door and closing it behind her. Jay followed, locking the deadbolt and chain, then sighed. 

"So you think Kreuk's gonna talk?" Chad asked softly.

Jay nodded. "Eventually, yeah. Like I said, you got a rep, and it's no big secret what kind of place she runs. The line's easy enough to draw, but you've got a rock-solid alibi, and you're behaving like you normally do. There shouldn't be a problem."

Chad just nodded, troubled by the comment. _The line's easy enough to draw,_ , and it made him a little queasy to think about what Jay meant by that. He wasn't even certain that it wasn't mean to be hurtful, but the gentle gleam of sympathy in Jay's eyes soothed his ruffled feathers just a little. 

"I didn't mean—" Jay started, and was surprised when Chad cut him off. 

"It's no big deal," he said quickly, rubbing the palms of his hands on his jeans. "Um, looks like I slept through breakfast, so I'm gonna find me something to eat real quick for brunch."

Jay didn't say anything else as Chad started rummaging through the newly stocked cabinets, watching as he jammed a couple of Pop-Tarts in the decrepit toaster and pushed the lever down. 

It took several tries to get the lever to catch, but it finally heated the snacks up and Chad put them on a Styrofoam plate, leaning against the counter to blow across the hot icing before trying to bite into it. He ate both treats in silence, then tossed the plate in the trash and washed his hands in the sink for lack of anything else to do. "I'm gonna sit outside and have a smoke."

Jay just nodded, because Chad was already halfway out the fire escape.

-=-=-

Chad came back in after two cigarettes, and Jay had made the futon up and set it back up into a couch again, because he was sitting on it leafing through the day's newspaper. He held up the A section. "Third page. Didn't hardly get half a page."

Chad caught the paper section as it came flying towards him, and quickly scanned the article. "Says here they've already talked to Kreuk."

"Yeah, I caught that. Which means they should be coming for us any minute now." Jay crossed his arms. "Sooner than I expected, to be honest." Sighing, he leaned back. "But like I said, we're good."

Chad tossed the newspaper section back, then dragged his hands over his face. "Christ." 

Jay patted the futon-sofa beside him. "Come here, Chad. Sit down. You need to stop, because you're working yourself up for nothing."

Chad steeled himself and went to sit beside Jay, leaning his head back against the sofa. "I know. Relax. Be yourself. All that shit." 

"Yeah, exactly." The warmth on the back of Chad's neck felt delicious, and a combination of fear and something else skittered down his spine as he realized it was Jay's hand gently massaging the tension out. "Calm down," he murmured. "If we're gonna convince people we're together, you can't look like you're terrified I'm gonna strangle you the second I put a hand on you."

Forcing his heartbeat to slow was the hardest thing Chad had ever done, but he didn't bolt across the room like every instinct told him to. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pushing down the panic. 

"Good," Jay murmured softly. "Doing good. Relax… that's it," he whispered, keeping his voice gentle and even, like he was stroking the neck of a spooked horse. 

"That feels good," Chad answered back, the tremor in his voice expressing his surprise at the non-violent touches. 

"Supposed to." Jay kept his hand moving in soothing circles. "Not gonna hurt you, okay?"

"I know," came the surprised answer. "If you wanted to, you'd have done it already, and I don't think you'd have bothered to rescue me in the first place." Chad's eyes were still closed as he spoke, but he was relaxing more into Jay's touch. 

The pounding on the front door nearly sent Chad through the roof, and he jumped off the couch, letting Jay's hand fall to the sofa as he looked through the peephole. "Police," he mouthed back at Jay, and then took a few steps back from the door. "Just a minute," he called out, moving over as soon as Jay motioned to him. 

"Unbutton your shirt," Jay ordered softly, doing the same thing and opening the button of his jeans, but left the zipper up for the moment. "Now go."

Chad ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up a little more as he undid both locks, and opened the door to the police. "Yes?"

"Chad Michael Murray?" The officer's distaste for the bare chest was obvious, and Chad quickly started buttoning up. 

"What's the problem, baby?" Jay's voice was smooth as silk as he wrapped an arm around Chad's waist. 

"Um, I don't know, they haven't said yet." Chad brushed Jay's hands off his buttons, which were unbuttoning as fast as he buttoned. 

The officers traded looks with each other, and then one flipped a notebook open. "We just need to verify a few things."

-=-=-

"That went well," Jay said, locking the door behind the police, who had left more convinced than ever that Chad Michael Murray knew absolutely nothing about what had happened to Thomas Welling. They'd said as much, apologizing for the interruption, although the apology hadn't been heartfelt. It didn't matter, though, but it was still nice to hear. 

Chad nodded. "Yeah, I think so too. They'd have said something else if they thought we were screwing with them."

Jay agreed. "We're gonna be staying here a few more days, just in case, to keep things looking kosher." 

"I got no problem with that." He rubbed his arm idly, scratching an itch behind his elbow, shifting nervously just a little as Jay moved to sit down on the sofa.

Jay breathed a long sigh through his nose, trying not to drum his fingers on the back of the sofa. "Do you ever have a problem with anything?" he asked softly, after a long moment of consideration.

"What?" Chad stopped shifting at that, looking up and furrowing his brow in confusion at the question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that since I got here--hell, since I met you at the club, in fact--I don't think you've had a single problem with anything that I've suggested. I've considered suggesting you stand on your head, just to see if you'd do it," he finished.

Chad blinked. "I didn't realize that was a problem?" he offered, a definite note of question in his voice. "I thought agreeable was good."

"Agreeable is one thing. Submissive is another, and you know, you've kind of got to have spirit in you somewhere if you can be friends with Krissy. And you were able to sputter at me in the club, but it's like, you only show it in flashes." He shrugged. "I was just trying to figure out why that was."

Chad chewed on his thumbnail for a moment, and then gave a shrug. "I don't know. I don't even know what you're talking about."

Jay just nodded. "Okay. Fair enough. As long as someone didn't beat it out of you, it's all fine by me."

Chad sat beside Jay on the sofa, tucking one leg up against his chest and wrapping both his arms around it. "My mom left when I was just a kid. It was me, my dad, three other brothers, and my baby sister. She was like, a month or two old. I was ten or so, and the rest were in between. So for awhile, it was just me and my dad raising the kids. Pops worked all day, I went to school during the day, worked in the afternoon, the kids watched themselves, and then I'd come home and help make dinner and do my homework and help with theirs, get baths and bed and then go to sleep myself and do it all over again. Then add in football practice in high school..." He shrugged. "I learned early on there wasn't enough hours in the day if you were gonna be an asshole to people, because they just made it harder for you. I was hoping football would get me a scholarship, because my grades sure as hell weren't pulling it, but then I got injured. In the hospital, a nurse thought I was too pretty for my own good, and told me that I should get into modeling with her. I did for awhile, moved out to LA when I got an agent, and that? Led to this, because after you've shown the goods for so long, people want to try them."

"Jesus Christ," Jay said softly. With that kind of story, it wasn't hard to figure out where Chad had lost the urge to rebel against anything or anybody. 

"Yeah. That's when I met Krissy, back in school before the injury. We lived near each other, and sometimes when I was working, if she had spare time, she'd come over and help watch my kid sister and youngest brother. But when I left for LA, I'd lost track of her until she showed up here herself, and you know the rest of that story," Chad finished.

"Family's lucky to have you," Jay answered. "Giving up most of your life like that?"

"I never minded." Chad gave a half little grin at that, and went to the fridge, pulling down a handful of pictures and bringing them back. "That's my Dad," he said, pointing to the only adult male in the picture. "Then that's me, standing in the back, then that's Brandon, Rex Jr, Nicky, and Shannon."

Jay filed away the tidbit that apparently, Chad's father was named Rex. "Where are they now?"

"Back in New York," came the surprising answer. "That's where we're from, and Pops has never moved the family away. They're a lot better off now, because I've sent them money when I've had it, and I helped him pay for a PI to find my mother, so she's having to pay support every month, since Pops has been taking care of all of us for so long. I've also got a half-brother, Tyler, that stops in every once in awhile."

"You see 'em often?" Jay asked, looking through the pictures and pausing at one of a family wedding. 

"Holidays, Christmas and Thanksgiving. Call 'em at Easter, things like that, but not as often as I'd like." He sighed and reached out, looking at the picture Jay had stopped on. "Christ, I forgot that was stuck behind the family one."

Jay took it back and held it up. "You married?"

"Divorced," was the reply. "One of the girls my agent managed. We dated for awhile, and then got married; lasted exactly five months, almost to the day, and then we divorced. Haven't talked to her since."

"That's gotta suck," Jay murmured, putting the picture back in the stack and flipping through the rest, laughing softly at one and holding it up. "There's got to be a story behind this one."

Chad took it and grinned. "Yeah, I mostly keep it around to mortify Krissy with," he explained. "We were like, five or something, I think. It was a weekend, hotter than hell in Buffalo, and Krissy's Dad had just bought her that kiddie pool we're in. So she was splashing around, and asked her Dad if she could run up and invite me and the rest of the kids, but Pops had taken them all out to like, the zoo or some shit, I don't remember, so it was just me. Long story short, we were having a splash fight, and I yanked her top off. So she yanked my shorts down, and her Dad snapped that picture. I never let her forget I've seen her bo-bees and she's seen my pee-pee."

Jay cracked up. "Bo-bees? Pee-pee?"

"That's what we called them back then!" Chad said defensively, cracking up as well.

"I swear I'm telling her I've seen this picture," Jay hooted. "Bo-bees, my good Christ."

"I think she'd heard someone else call them boobies, and couldn't quite get it right," Chad reflected. "I've thought about asking, but you know, it's never actually come up in conversation. _So, Krissy, why did you used to call your tits bo-bees?_ I've just... you know, never found that opening."

Jay gave a rude snort. "It's Krissy. You don't need an opening."

"...that's true," Chad allowed, laughing.

Jay relaxed a little when he heard the laughter, letting the pictures slide easily back into Chad's hands.

Chad's grin faded just a little, and he frowned. "God, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been rattling on so much," he said, getting back up and taking his photos back out to the kitchen.

"Hey, I didn't mind; in case you didn't notice, I asked." Jay turned on the sofa to watch Chad hanging the photos back in place with great care, fitting them into the mosaic that seemed to cover the front of the fridge. "You mind if I look at all of them?"

Chad gestured. "Knock yourself out if you want," he muttered, moving to sit at the table and give Jay enough room to move around.

Jay moved out to the kitchen, studying the fridge and looking at all the pictures fit together. There was the sister hanging out with some of her friends, there was Chad with "--your grandmother?" he asked, pointing to one that had Chad kissing an elderly woman on the cheek. 

"Yeah, that's Gramma Murray," he answered. "Pops' mom."

Jay nodded and kept looking at the pictures, trying to push down a little bit of frustration at the fact that he hadn't been able to engage Chad in further conversation. "You got a lot of pictures here."

"Yeah, they cheer me up," he said, moving from the chair to lean against the counter. He pointed to one picture of himself in front of the Statue of Liberty's pedestal. "That one, makes me feel a little homesick, but at the same time, closer to Pops and the kids."

Jay nodded. "I got a brother and sister myself, both livin' in Texas, so I kinda know how you feel," he offered. 

"Yeah, it's not a great feeling being away from your family. Sometimes it feels like there's a hole in me that they used to fill, but being away made it worse."

Jay sat down, looking up at Chad. "Maybe that's why," he murmured, more to himself. "Looking for someone to fill in the gap." 

Chad looked up. "What?" he asked, having missed the mutter entirely. 

"Nothing," Jay said with an easy smile. "C'mon, let's see what we've got for dinner."

-=-=-

Jay jerked awake with a start. He knew exactly where he was, remembered everything from dinner—an alfredo Tuna Helper with chicken instead of tuna—onwards, and that's why he couldn't figure out why he was hearing the soft whimpering and crying of a small child.

He jumped to his feet in the next second, running into Chad's bedroom and pushing the door open. Chad was curled up in the fetal position, smack in the middle of the bed with the sheet pulled over his head. Jay sat down on the side of the bed, peeling the sheet back just enough to see the silver tracks of tears on Chad's cheeks.

"Hey, baby," Jay murmured softly, not even 100% aware of what he was saying. "Hey, Chad, wake up." He put his hand gently on Chad's shoulder.

Chad jerked awake with a loud sob of "No!" as he pulled away, curling up on his side in the bed as he rolled over and looked at Jay with wild eyes. 

"It's okay," Jay said, pulling his hand back to show he wasn't trying to hurt anyone. "You were having a bad dream."

Chad brought his hands up to his cheeks, the heels of his hands dashing the tears off his face. "Don't remember." He pulled his knees up to his chest, and rested his chin on them. 

"Don't force it," Jay murmured quietly, reaching out again and gently rubbing one of Chad's shoulders. "Sounded like it was pretty bad, and you shouldn't make yourself remember it."

Chad just nodded, breathing hard through a partially stuffed up nose, evidence that he'd been crying even though he'd dried his face off. "Don't want to think about it."

"Fair enough," Jay answered, and as he watched, Chad started rocking himself. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine." Chad's eyes were closed, and he tightened his grip on his knees. "Just tired of being afraid."

"Everybody's afraid sometimes, it's not a bad thing."

"Yeah, I get that, but I'm tired of being afraid all the time." Chad rocked a little harder.

"I know." Jay moved a little closer, and then when Chad didn't object, moved entirely onto the bed so that he could slide one arm around his shoulders. "You have these bad dreams often?"

Chad shook his head. "Just every once in a while, every three, four months." He was quiet a moment, then, "Do you ever have bad dreams, Jay?"

Jay gave a little shrug, inwardly surprised at the question and slightly glad that Chad was showing some initiative. "Nah, not really."

"Not even with… what you do?" he pressed.

"Well… the thing about that is, what I do is like being a cop, in a way. Or an enforcer. The people I take care of, they've broken a law, or a contract, or something else that bound them to do a certain thing—or, not do a certain thing, in some cases," he explained. "And when that contract is broken, then that's where I come in. I provide justice. So no, I really don't have a problem sleeping at night," Jay finished. "And if I ever do, then I know it's time to quit the job and go be a night security guard at Toys 'R Us for the rest of my life."

The corners of Chad's lips quirked upwards at that, although the smile couldn't follow through. "Somehow I don't think I'd fuck with any store you were patrolling."

"That'd probably be a smart decision, should you ever decide to turn petty thief," Jay said with a laugh. "Although you'd be good at it; you're damned skinny enough that you could slide through ductwork like a snake."

"Seriously?" Chad looked down at himself, obviously not seeing whatever he thought that Jay was seeing.

"Yeah, seriously. I mean, I haven't seen you move or anything, but you're about the right size, and I'm betting you gotta stay pretty damn limber to deal with what you have to put up with," is how he finally phrased it, after a moment's consideration. "I know a couple of jobs that I'd have loved to have you along on, in fact, cause it's sometimes a pain in the ass being six foot five and two-seventy when the grate you need to get into wouldn't hardly fit you past the knee."

Chad looked a little bit hopeful at that. "You think I'd work?"

"Well, I'm not saying it's an ideal job for anyone," Jay warned with a shrug of his massive shoulders. "It's a hard job if you've got a conscience and it's harder if you don't. But I kinda get the feeling it's better than what you've got now."

Chad bit his lip as he thought about the half-unspoken and half-implied invitation. "Anything's better than what I've got now."

Jay just nodded. "Then it might be something to think about."

-=-=-

The next morning, when Jay got out of the shower, Chad was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed waiting for him. "If I tried it and found that it wasn't for me, could I get out?"

Jay shrugged, pulling the towel from around his waist and scrubbing at his dripping hair with it. "I've never tried," he said honestly. "But I could make a few calls. See if anyone's willing to take on a new kid on a trial basis."

"I don't… I can't do what you do," he said frankly, not looking away. "But I'm good with my hands, and I can move quiet. Kind of had to learn to so I didn't get punched in the mouth for waking someone up in the middle of the night getting a snack." 

"Use a gun?" Jay asked, letting the towel fall around his shoulders.

"No, but I bet I can learn."

Jay just studied Chad. "Know electronics?"

"I can get past most alarms," he admitted. He wasn't proud of it, but sometimes he had to "borrow" to make ends meet.

"Drive?"

"Like a bat out of hell."

That made him grin. "Wanna try being a wheel man? Get into the buildings, unlock a door or window for us giants, bypass the alarms and then drive?"

"That'd work," Chad said with a laugh. "You're serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious," Jay said. "Like I said, I could use a skinny snake like you to help me into places. There's only so much good I can do before my size gets prohibitive instead of helpful."

"Then you've got one skinny snake on your hands," Chad said. "I owe you."

Jay stopped in his tracks. "No. No, you don't owe me jack," he said, eyes narrowing just a little. "And I don't ever want you getting in that mindset about me ever again. You don't have to offer up your life in return for a little bit of normal human kindness, Chad."

Chad recoiled just a little at that, drawing the sheet up closer around him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" he snapped. "Just… for God's sake, stop being everybody's whipping post! You're a human being, you have thoughts, feelings, wishes, wants, desires, just like everyone else, and you don't have to grovel at people's feet just because they said something nice about you!" He threw the towel down on the bathroom floor and sat on the bed beside Chad. "Look. I'm sorry I yelled. I shouldn't have," he apologized. "But you gotta realize that you're a real person too, and that means you don't have to automatically roll over and do tricks for me because I compliment you."

Chad drew away from Jay when he sat down, scooting just a little bit away. "I can't exactly help it," he said a little bitterly. "People that are nice to me usually want something, and that something is a piece of my ass. And that's literal. I can't figure out if you want that or not, but the fact that you're not beating the hell out of me and taking it? Means that I'm damned grateful, and I'm gonna do everything that I can to show that, so you *keep* not beating the hell out of me."

Jay's jaw ticked as he ground his teeth. "I'm not going to beat you," he said calmly. "That's not what I do. And I'm not going to force you to do anything," he bit out. "So just… stop."

"Fine."

"Fine."

-=-=-

Chad spent the afternoon and the early part of the evening going through his closet, folding and hanging up the clothes that had previously just been tossed in the floor through laziness and exhaustion. As he dug near the back, he found smaller clothes, shirts and pants that he'd grown out of, or that he knew he'd never wear again. Most of them were from his modeling shoots, name-brand designer jeans and shirts that he wouldn't wear if his life depended on it. 

He tossed them all into a pile to be burned, thrown away, donated to the shelter, or whatever he could think of to do with them. 

Jay picked his way carefully through the mounds of clothing when he had to go to the bathroom, several times trying to start conversations with Chad before realizing he was wearing headphones in a deliberate attempt to ignore him. 

He let Chad continue that into the evening, until curiosity got the better of him, and Jay paused to look at one of the piles of clothes that Chad had thrown near the garbage can. 

A like-new pair of pre-ripped jeans, a color-block polo top, more jeans, more shirts with designer logos on them: Abercrombie, Hilfiger, Ralph Lauren. Several pairs of boots and shoes: Sketchers, Gucci, more Sketchers. More t-shirts, a fleece jacket. 

"What are you doing?"

Jay looked up to find Chad glaring at him, half-curiously, headphones dangling around his neck. "Why are you throwing these clothes away? They look like they haven't even been worn."

Chad shrugged. "Got no use for them. Most of them I can't wear anyway; too small. The rest of 'em I just don't want."

Jay looked at the ratty sweatshirt Chad was wearing, the too-big sweatpants and the thick socks. "Yeah, I bet," he murmured softly. "Let me help you, man. You got a lot of folding to do."

"Suit yourself," Chad shrugged, putting the headphones back on and turning back to the closet.

Jay rooted around under the bed, coming up with several empty plastic tubs. "Remind me to introduce you to Space Bags," he muttered, shoving his hair out of his face as he got to work. 

A few hours later, Chad had finished pulling out everything he was going to get rid of, and was going to get himself a drink when he caught sight of Jay. At some point, Jay had taken his shirt off and his back had a dull shine from the sweat starting to collect on his skin. Under the sweat, Chad could see several irregularly-shaped scars, from a light tracery of white lines to masses of scar tissue. "What happened?"

"Huh?" Jay turned his head to look and see what Chad was talking about and then grunted. "Oh. Which time?"

"I don't know… all of them?" 

"That's a lot of stories," he grunted again, tossing the last of the jeans into one of the plastic tubs and easing it back under the bed. "Sure you wanna hear?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Chad disappeared out of the bedroom, and Jay heard the clinking of glass before he reappeared, holding out two cold beer bottles. "Wet your whistle?"

Jay took the bottle and twisted the cap off before chugging a sip. "The first one, here," he said, reaching up and pressing his fingers at the meeting of his neck and shoulder. "That's a knife from someone I was trying to kill," he murmured. "He was trying to cut my throat and I wouldn't stay still long enough, so he just stabbed what he could reach and hoped it stopped me."

Chad swallowed hard. "Christ."

"Pretty much all those white looking lines? Are cuts. Stabs, knife wounds, whatever you want to call them. The one down near my hip, and this one," he said, turning around and pointing to one on his side. "Krissy sewed those up for me. She does good work." He turned his back to Chad again. "The big ones are bullet holes."

"Jesus fuck," he murmured again, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Told you it wasn't a fun job."

"No, it's not that," he answered, getting up from his crouch on the floor and moving over towards him. "It's just that… I didn't realize someone as big and strong as you could still get hurt."

"Anyone can get hurt," Jay said shortly, reaching for his shirt and tugging it back on over his head. "It doesn't always have to be a weapon or a fist; sometimes all it takes is a word. Sharp words hurt just as easily as calm words make things well again." He yanked at the shirt, trying to pull it all the way down because he was feeling entirely too naked to be having this conversation, period, ever.

Chad's hand got in the way, lightly touching one of Jay's knife scars, trailing his fingers over it and then pressing his palm flat against one of the bullet scars. "I'm sorry."

Jay sucked in a deep breath, letting his hands fall off his half-tugged shirt. "You don't have to be."

"I know," Chad said, not moving his hand. "But you said that I can feel or think whatever I want to. And nobody can force an apology out of anyone else. It's something you have to offer, and it's about all I've got."

"It's not all you've got," Jay protested quietly. "But thank you."

"You're welcome." After another long moment, Chad let his hand fall off Jay's skin, and the shirt fell into place, hiding the scars from view.

-=-=-

The last couple of days that Jay and Chad had to spend together passed in a blur of conversations, meals, showers, and occasional phone calls. Jay lingered more and more in the kitchen, examining and memorizing all the photos on the fridge while Chad spent his time watching Jay.

It was Monday night, and Jay would be leaving Tuesday evening. Chad was sitting on the sofa, sipping at a beer and watching Jay lean against the kitchen counter. Jay's finger was on one photo in particular, and he sighed. "Which one?"

Jay gave a guilty grin, tugging it off the fridge and carrying it into the living room. He handed it to Chad as he sat down, and fidgeted with the label of his own beer bottle as he waited. 

"Oh, that one." He sighed, looking at the picture of himself and his brunette ex-wife, who, now that he thought about it, kind of reminded him of Jay. "What do you want to know?"

"What was her name? How'd you meet, what happened? Everything."

Chad just nodded. "Sophia. Sophia Bush. I used to work with her, we were doing this modeling campaign, some mocked-up teen drama bullshit for Abercrombie and Fitch. We did posters and promos and shit dressed up in the clothes, did a few signings as the characters we were pretending to be, things like that. We just got shoved together so much, we kind of had to like each other, and spending all that time together, it wasn't hard to think I loved her."

"But you didn't?" Jay ventured. 

"No, I didn't. About four months into the marriage I was sleeping with other people, and she found out about it. A month later we started divorce proceedings." Chad took another drink from the bottle. "That's it."

Jay shook his head. "What happened in that month? I mean, what took you and her so long to decide?"

Chad just shrugged. "Lots of fighting. Lots of crying. A couple of tries to reconcile, a few nights of desperate sex. I couldn't get her off, she couldn't do anything for me, and all we did was fight and scream. Getting the divorce papers was actually a joy."

"Sounds like you weren't ready to get married, either of you."

Chad raised his bottle in a toast. "That, my friend, is the understatement of the friggin' century." 

"That's not your fault, you know," he said gently, raising his own bottle in answer of the toast, clinking the necks together. "Being too young and unprepared isn't your fault. I mean, it's good that you're taking responsibility and everything, but really, when you're young, you do stupid things. You just gotta suck it up and move on."

"No, it actually was my fault," Chad pointed out. "I mean, I was the one fucking other people. That was my choice, because I wasn't happy."

"But that's still not your fault," Jay argued. "I mean, yes, it was a shitty thing to do, but like I said, youth and stupidity factor into that. It's not an excuse, because yeah, you're right to stand up about it, but you know, cut yourself a break, too."

Chad and Jay argued back and forth about it for nearly an hour until Chad exploded with, "Fine! Since you know everything, tell me about your first girlfriend." Jay remained ominously silent, looking everywhere but at Chad, and Chad winced. "Sorry."

"No reason to be," Jay said briskly. "But I never had a girlfriend."

Chad's jaw dropped at the insinuation. 

Jay nodded. "He was an older guy. He had a wife, a couple of kids. Little girls, twins, blonde hair and green eyes. Kind of like Jensen's coloring, only prettier. I met up with him when I was sixteen, seventeen years old. I'd just skipped out on a college scholarship to University of Texas, cause I wanted something different. Max picked me up out of a runaway shelter one night. Gave me a hot meal, clothes, a place to stay, and a job. I was a courier at first, muleing whatever they needed someone to carry, and even then I was big enough that nobody was gonna fuck with me for the little shit that I had. A couple of times I got an escort, but I didn't think anything about it."

"Escort?" Chad asked softly, moving to the edge of the sofa so he could hear Jay's quietly spoken words.

"Yeah. Muscle. A guy my size following me in the shadows," he clarified. "I never really needed the escorts, but then again, their whole point was for me to not know if I needed them or not, if that makes sense." He sighed. "I worked for Max for about a year and a half before he let me in on The Business. And it was about six months after that before we started sleeping together." Dropping his eyes, Jay pulled out his knife and snapped it open, lifting one hip until he found the whetstone in his back pocket and started to sharpen the blade. 

"Wow," Chad murmured softly. "You've been in the business that long?"

"Yeah," Jay answered, his voice hardening. "Max was killed on the sidewalk in front of his house on a Saturday morning about five years ago," he finished. "I'd just left the house, going to go to the airport and pick up Sandy and the girls cause they'd been gone to visit Sandy's mother. Max and I had spent the night together." A little bitterness crept into Jay's voice. "A black SUV came down the street, and cut him down. Thirty-six bullets from four different automatics. He died while I was holding him and trying to dial 911." His voice got gruff near the end and choked off entirely for a moment. "Max's boss found out who it was, but I hit them before the other enforcers could, and they hired me on the spot."

Chad didn't have a single thing to say to that; he couldn't think of anything that would even come into the ballpark of "okay." So he did the only other thing he could think to do, and that was slide across the sofa so that he was sitting beside Jay and wrapped both arms around him, hugging him tightly. 

Jay stiffened for a moment at the feeling of Chad's arms around him, and then relaxed into them in the next instant, returning the embrace as tightly as he could.

-=-=- 

Chad didn't say anything after Jay's story, just sat beside him and offered comfort the best way he knew how, an unspoken apology on the tip of his tongue for bringing up those bad memories. But he didn't let it out, just stayed quiet because that's what Jay seemed to need right then. 

They ignored the ringing phone, and the answering machine message from Krissy inviting Chad to dinner with her and Jensen after Jared left, and the loud blare of music from the apartment downstairs. It seemed like hours but was less than half of one when Jay finally straightened up, putting his knife and whetstone away as he pulled away from Chad. "I'm gonna hit the sack early," he said, throat still scratchy and gruff. 

Chad just nodded, getting up off the couch and running his fingers nervously through his hair. "You don't… have to sleep out here if you don't want to," he said softly, not sure how his invitation was going to be taken. 

Jay stiffened slightly, and shook his head. "I told you that you don't have to do that, Chad."

"I know," was Chad's answer. 

"No," Jay said, pulling the futon out flat and spreading the blankets back over it, his turned back showing the conversation was over. 

Stung by the rejection, Chad moved towards the bedroom alone, not bothering to close the door behind him. 

-=-=-

He was used to waking up in the middle of the night, in the dark and disoriented until he remembered where he was, who was in the bed with him, and what time it was. He rolled over to find the bed empty, which panicked him until he remembered Jay sleeping in the living room, and the numbers on the bedside clock glowed brightly green and read 2: 45 AM, colon blinking merrily to tick away the seconds. 

Chad couldn't put his finger on what had woke him up this time until he heard it again. 

"No! God, no, not again, please, not again." 

He threw the blankets off in a rush, feet hitting the cold floor without him even registering as he bolted out into the living room. The futon was lit just by moonlight, but it was enough for Chad to see Jay's face twisted in a mask of fear and sadness, his arms clutching a pillow and cradling it against his chest. 

Not even having to give it a thought, Chad moved quickly to the futon, getting on his knees beside it and shaking Jay gently. "Hey. Jay. Wake up." 

The shaking only seemed to agitate Jay more, making his clutch on the pillow tighten as he made a piteous little wailing noise that gave way to silent tears as he shook, the tremors of his large body shaking the whole frame of the futon. 

Chad shook him a little harder, and when that didn't get his attention, he got a little worried. "Jay!" he said loudly, trying to pull the pillow out of his arms. Finally Jay's grip gave in, and Chad sprawled backwards onto his ass, pillow falling to the floor as Jay bolted upright in the futon. 

Jay was looking around wildly, his bangs matted to his forehead with sweat as he braced his hands on either side of the futon, eyes sweeping blindly over Chad before returning and locking onto him. 

Chad was about to speak, but Jay pre-empted that by sweeping Chad up tightly, pulling him in close and giving him a rib-crushing hug. He hugged back, gently thumping Jay's back. "Breathing. Need to breathe," he croaked, and his eyes nearly popped when Jay's arms tightened around him before letting him go. "You okay?"

"You okay?" 

Chad gave a small grin, because they had asked the same question at the same time, but his relief was short-lived as he took in Jay's panic. "Yeah, I'm okay. Question is, are you okay?" he asked. 

Jay's frantic nod was the only answer he could give for a moment, and he dragged his fingers through his hair to get it off his face. "What time is it?" he finally croaked.

"Quarter of three," Chad murmured, looking at the watch on Jay's wrist to confirm it. 

Jay did the same thing, dropping his hands in disgust because he'd totally forgotten he had his watch on. "I woke you up."

"It's no problem; I'd have been awake in a half hour anyway," he murmured soothingly. "I don't sleep the night through unless Krissy gives me something."

Jay nodded, leaning back on the futon. "Christ, that was… bad." 

Chad didn't ask, just touched Jay gently on the shoulder. "You should get back to sleep if you can."

Jay shook his head. "No."

Chad nodded his agreement. "I totally feel you. I think the Ronco infomercial is on in about fifteen minutes, and if not, we'll find one that's fun. Maybe the Abdominizer or—hey, there's always that sex toy infomercial, where you can order glass and metal cocks."

Jay gave him a weird look. "You watch a *lot* of late-night TV, don't you?"

"When you don't sleep at night, that's about the only thing that's on," he admitted with a little shrug. "We can totally find something good to watch until you feel tired."

"I don't want to watch TV," Jay said finally. 

"So let's go back to bed," Chad murmured. "Direct TV gets the XM radio stations; we'll find some music we like and that'll get us to sleep." He stood up beside the futon, and held his hand out to Jay. 

After a moment, Jay took it, and let Chad draw him into the bedroom. 

-=-=-

Chad woke to thunder rattling the windows and rain pelting the glass.

He sighed, looking up at the ceiling and meditating on the thought of just how much he utterly despised the rain. Joints that had been abused, both in football games and by past lovers, always ached like ground glass cushioned his bones instead of cartilage, and there was never enough medication or booze to quite get rid of it. 

He sighed and just stayed in bed, listening to the hammering of raindrops. He was warm, which was unnatural on rainy days, because the apartment's heating system really didn't work very well, but Jay's silk-clad body beside him made up for it. Jay was curled up close to Chad, one arm thrown over his waist, and Chad smiled. At some point over the last week or so, the apartment had slowly cleaned itself, inch by inch. Walls, floors, clothes, upholstery, even the kitchen was more habitable than it had been, and Chad was shocked at the cleanliness. The carpet had holes burned into it from his lazily-flicked cigarettes, and those holes were even covered by furniture now. 

Honestly, it felt like a home now, instead of a way station on the self-destructive path he'd been on, and Chad couldn't help smiling softly as he shifted closer to Jay. 

Jay's arm tightened around Chad's waist as he woke up, and pushed himself up on his elbow. "Hey."

"Morning," Chad said softly, scooting up so that he was sitting against the headboard. 

"Is it?" Jay squinted at his watch, and then at the weather outside the window blurred by rain-covered glass. "It's raining."

"Yeah, it has been," he answered. "Thunder woke me up just now. How'd you sleep?"

"Not bad," he admitted, looking down at Chad. 

"Me either. I didn't wake up again until the thunder woke me."

Jay frowned as he sat up, the sheet falling around his hips, but he didn't say anything as he got completely out of bed and headed to the bathroom. 

Chad stayed in bed, head resting on his knees as he waited on Jay to come out, and was surprised when he came out a half hour later, showered and fully dressed. "What's this?"

Jay looked at Chad, his face carefully blank. "It's time for me to go, right?" He picked up the bag that he'd been living out of, shoving all the clothes and toiletries into it without folding or any care for neatness.

Chad was trying to figure out what to say to stop Jay from leaving, even as he was watching him pack. It was like a dream, in that he could almost see himself sitting helplessly there on the bed as Jay moved around the apartment, making sure that nothing random had been left behind. By the time that he got out of bed and made it to the bedroom threshold, Jay was in the kitchen again and examining the photos on the fridge. He wanted to protest when Jay pulled one off and dropped it in the bag too, but he didn't. 

Jay made one last look around the living room to make sure he hadn't missed anything, and Chad came out of the bedroom, pulling on a t-shirt over his plaid flannel pajama pants.

"You should be okay," Jay said as he pulled the shoulder strap of the bag over his shoulder. "Cops haven't been by in days, nothing's been on the scanner, and I haven't heard anything from the people we've got in the department." 

"Yeah," is all Chad could say, walking towards the sofa as Jay was walking towards the door. "Thank you."

Jay's hand was on the doorknob, and he squeezed it as he turned around to look at Chad over his shoulder. "You really want to thank me, Chad? Don't go back to the Cabot. Find a better place to live. Krissy and Jen'll put you up for a week or so until you get a better place. Just… you're better than this, Chad. And if you really want to thank me, you'll prove it. Do it for yourself."

Chad slammed his hand against the door, shutting it and yanking the knob out of Jay's hand. He licked his lips as he leaned his weight against the door until Jay stepped back, and Chad leaned up to kiss him. Hard and fast and wet, his hands knotted in Jay's shirt and held on like a lifeline. 

Jay pushed Chad away after a second, panting softly and licking his lips to taste Chad on them. "I can't do this again," Jared said regretfully, his huge hands on Chad's shoulders holding him at arm's length. "I lost one person I loved to this business in a spray of blood and bullets and I don't want to risk losing someone else I care about. It's safer for both of us if you just…"

"Shut up." Chad jerked out of Jay's hands and yanked the door open. "If you wanna walk out on me then go right ahead. People've been walking out on me all my life, and you won't be the first or the last," he said, in a rare burst of determination. "But you've been telling me that I need to stand up and say what I want, and okay, I'm doing it. I want you. You make me happy, and this is what I've been looking for. I've been looking for someone who is strong enough to take care of me but who gives enough of a shit about me to see me as a person and not just a toy. You do that. You want better things for me than I've ever wanted for myself and I don't want to lose that."

Jay's breath rushed out of him as his suitcase hit the floor. "Chad—"

"No. No, no, no, no, no," he nearly shouted. "NO."

Jay reached around Chad and slammed the door shut.

The End


End file.
